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Dear friends, Welcome to a new edition of Word Play, the book that celebrates words and play! In this issue, we invite you to meet a duck called Brian, another called Delilah and… well, that’s it for ducks! You’ll meet aliens living as cats, be encouraged to take part in Viking adventures and find out how people who chew their food too loudly make us feel! These pages are filled to the brim with samples of books and poems by lots of amazing authors, along with word games, drawing and writing activities, all designed for you to become the best writer in the world! We’ve also got a fun challenge for you! A chance for you and your parents, carers, aunties, grandparents, siblings to get involved in a special writing project and be part of the Birmingham 2022 Festival. (Turn to page 30 for details.) So what are you waiting for? Grab your pencils and let’s get going…

Word Play was created by How Brave is the Wren, the Birmingham-based children’s bookshop, as part of the Word Play festival, taking place from the 6th to the 17th June 2022 in Birmingham. The festival aims to encourage a love of reading, storytelling and writing. It was made in collaboration with a host of brilliant authors, illustrators and publishers whose details you can find on the last page of this book.

Word Play is available to download as a PDF from www.howbraveisthewren.com It was compiled & designed by Studio Anorak, publishers of Happy Mags for Kids Anorak and DOT. Illustrations and cover by Ben Javens. www.anorakmagazine.com www.benjavens.co.uk

This book was made with the generous help of the Arts Council England and Birmingham City Council. For any questions, please email Jenny at hello@howbraveisthewren.com Follow us on our social media: @how_brave_is_the_wren

@BraveWren

What’s that you say? He’s blue? He sure is! He’s a real one of a kind!

For the purposes of this story, it’s important that you know that Brian’s favourite things in the world are:

On the day of our story, things did NOT start well. When he went to the cupboard for his morning Duck Nuts and milk, Brian discovered he had none left. This was a disaster.

He decided to go and find Gregory to tell him all about it.

Brian’s favourite things are his best friend Gregory, a cold glass of milk and a bowl of Duck Nuts. Draw here what your three favourite things are.

This story is an extract from A Duck Called Brian (© Al Murphy, 2021), reproduced with permission from Scholastic. www.al-murphy.com/kids-books

by Joshua Seigal

When people chew their food too loud When you look outside and see the clouds When people fuss and fight in crowds — Don’t even get me started. When biscuits fall in cups of tea When mum goes on a cleaning spree Whenever teachers pick on me — Don’t even get me started. Waiting in an airport queue When chocolate melts and turns to goo No toilet paper in the loo — Don’t even get me started. Wi-Fi signals that get lost Summer sun that turns to frost Poems with irregular rhyme schemes — Don’t even get me started! Text © Joshua Seigal

Write a poem about all the things that make you REALLY angry. You could write it in the form of a poem, or a list. If you like, you could also give it a chorus, like I did in my poem, although that too is optional. Basically, have fun and be creative!

Feel free to check out my website, where you can find lots of poems to read for free! www.joshuaseigal.co.uk

Once upon a time in a Viking village, everything seems to be going wrong. Chickens are disappearing, trees are falling down, and there’s lots and lots of crashing and bashing. The silly Chieftain won’t listen to the three littlest Vikings, but can they work together to figure out what’s going on and save the day?

What do you think is happening to the Viking village? Write here what the crashing and bashing is all about.

D r aw yo own V ur iking chara cter h e re .

From Three Little Vikings, first published in 2021 by Two Hoots an imprint of Pan Macmillan. Reproduced by permission of Macmillan Publishers International Limited. Text and illustrations copyright © Bethan Woollvin 2021

Look closely at Laura’s friendly dragon on the page opposite. Can you spot what animals it is made of? Now draw your own animal here!

Laura Howell is a comic artist and occasional writer working in Birmingham, she is the first female artist to produce a regular strip in The Beano.

by Carlie Sorosiak

Humans have it all wrong about aliens. Sometimes I see images of us on television – with enormous eyes, with skin the color of spring leaves – and I wonder: Who thought of this? What reason could they have? Olive always tells me not to watch those shows. “You’ll just give yourself bad dreams,” she says. So we switch oﬀ the TV and curl up by the window, listening to the gentle hush of waves. But the truth is, I really don’t belong here – not permanently, not forever. That’s why we’re travelling in this camper, zooming down dark roads at midnight. Olive is wearing her frayed overalls, and she’s cradling me in her arms. I don’t squirm. I don’t scratch. I am not that type of cat. “You won’t forget me,” she says, pressing her forehead to mine. “Please promise you `won’t.” She smells of cinnamon toast and raspberry shampoo. There are daisy barrettes in her hair. And for a second, I consider lying to her – out of love. The words are right there: I will always remember. I could never forget. But I’ve been honest with her this whole time, and the rules of intergalactic travel are clear. Tomorrow, I will forget everything I’ve ever felt.

In my mind, Olive will exist only as data, as pure information. I’ll remember her daisy barrettes, our Saturday afternoons by Wrigley Pier – but not how it felt to share a beach towel, or read books together, or fall asleep under the late June sun. And Olive doesn’t deserve that. She is so much more than a collection of facts. Halfheartedly, I summon a purr. It rattles weakly in my chest. “You get to go home,” Olive says, the ghost of a smile on her face. “Home.” The Winnebago speeds faster, then faster still. Outside, the sky is full of stars. And I want to communicate that I will miss this – feeling so small, so earthly. Am I ready to go back? Half of me is. And yet, when I close my eyes, I picture myself clinging to the walls of this motor home. Olive sets me down on the countertop, the plastic cool under my paws. Opening her laptop, she angles the keyboard toward me, a gesture that says, Type, will you? But I shake my head, fur shivering. “You don’t want to talk?” she asks. What can I say? I owe it to Olive not to make this any harder. So I won’t use the computer. I won’t tell her what I’ve been hoping – to maybe carry one thing back with me. Maybe if I concentrate hard enough, a part of Olive will imprint on a part of me, and I will remember how it felt. How it felt to know a girl once. “Okay,” she says, shutting her laptop with a sigh. “At least eat your crunchies.” So I eat my crunchies. They’re trout-flavored and tangy on my tongue. I chew slowly, savoring the morsels. This is one of my last meals as a cat. I haven’t always lived in this body. Leonard wasn’t always my name. Olive pats my head as I lick the bowl clean. “I know you didn’t want to be a cat,” she says, so softly that my ears prick to hear her, “but you are a very, very good cat.” I want the computer now. My paws are itching to type: You are a very, very good human. Because she is. And she will be, long after I’m gone.

by Andy Jones

Interesting characters – just like interesting people – are defined by more than one thing. More than good or bad, brave or afraid, silly or smart. Interesting characters tend to be more complicated, with several sides – or traits* – to their personality. A character who is relentlessly bad is fine, for a while, but they can become a bit predictable. A bit boring. But if this thoroughly horrible character is afraid of his mother, or all lovey-dovey with his cat, then we have seen another side to him, and he becomes more realistic and more interesting to the reader. Or a girl who is shy at school, shy at home, shy at parties but fearless and terrifying when she practises judo. As a writer, you can work with that. You can use it to build a story. When building a character, the diﬀerent aspects of their personality don’t have to be opposites like shy and fearless. They simply need to be varied and interesting. *For the purpose of writing a story, a TRAIT is part of a character’s personality – a thing that they do, or a way they behave.

This list is just the beginning; there are hundreds and thousands of possible character traits. Almost as many as there are people in the world!

See if you can think of your own and write or draw them here.

Extract from Unleash Your Creative Monster Text © Andy Jones 2021 Image © Olaf Falafel reprinted with permission of Walker Books Ltd.

by Serena Pa

We walk to the restaurant with Manny directing everyone using the map app on his phone, and also looking through binoculars, for some reason. He gives us regular time checks too, in military time, of course. Very quickly it becomes zero-eight-twenty and we only have ten minutes to get to breakfast! “Isn’t this nice?” Aunty Bindi beams, linking arms with me. “We never walk anywhere any more. We need to do it more often and leave the cars at home. Aren’t there some hills near us? We could totally walk up those on a Sunday.” Just then, as we pass the outdoor exercise equipment, we see that stilt walker from the barbecue yesterday – what was his name? Jamil, that’s it. I wonder if he ever takes those stilts oﬀ! He sees us and waves, but he looks a bit nervous to me. Maybe he’s shy. “I’m gonna try stilt walking,” Milo says. “It looks fun!” “I’ll give that one a miss,” I mutter. Soon we reach the restaurant and as we all go past Delilah the duck sculpture, we give her a wave and say good morning. “She really is something,” Mum remarks. “All this fuss about a duck seems a little strange.” Granny Jas sniﬀs. “Well, the celebration is for the park, Granny, but Delilah is an important part of the park’s history,” I say. “Like your community centre is important to you.” Granny nods. “Ah, I see. Well, in any case I like a good party.” “Right, where are those pancakes?” Dad says as we enter the restaurant for breakfast right on time.

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We emerge at 9.25 a.m. with full tummies and a plan for the day. Everyone has activities they’re going to try and I’m planning to return to the reading nook. But before any of us gets a chance to do anything, we hear a shriek – and this time it’s not coming from Aunty Bindi. It’s coming from Delilah – or rather the woman standing in front of her. But Delilah does not look like herself at all. Delilah barely even looks like a duck any more! Poor Delilah is in tatters!

The woman standing there turns to face the small crowd that has now gathered. “I…I…I…found her like this. Who would do such a thing?” she stutters. I see from her badge and uniform that she works here. “I came out from the reception desk for my break and that’s when I saw!” She points dramatically at Delilah. We all stand in silence for a moment, trying to take in the sight before us. Poor Delilah the duck is a mess! She is missing one wing, which has left a ragged gaping hole, and she is covered in yellow gloop, as though someone has thrown a can of paint over her. There are splatters and splodges everywhere! I can’t believe what I’m seeing. “Delilah!” Milo cries out sadly. “She was fine when we went past less than an hour ago,” Mindy points out. “Maybe it was foxes?” Manny suggests. “Foxes couldn’t throw paint all over her.” Uncle Tony shakes his head. “Looks like vandalism to me.” I shiver. Could that be right? Vandalism? But why? And who? I notice then that Tom the manager has arrived and is standing at the front in shock. Slowly he turns to the small team of staﬀ standing at the side. “Did anyone see what happened?” he asks quietly. Everyone shakes their heads, and I look closely for any reaction. They all look as confused as the rest of us. Tom steps forward and examines the damage, his jaw clenched. “This looks deliberate. There would be no reason to have paint near Delilah and the wing has clearly been ripped oﬀ. You all know how important Delilah is to the park and to our family. WE ARE going to find out who did this and I feel sorry for them when we do.”

Anisha, Accidental Detective: Holiday Adventure published by Usborne, 2022

Using the symbols chart below, decode Delilah’s secret message. =a

Help Anisha find her way to Delilah.

=q =x

THE BIRD WITHIN ME Berta is a twelve-year-old girl growing up on a farm. She loves drawing and painting more than anything else, and secretly dreams of being an artist. But her mother is sick and Berta is needed on the farm, how can she make her dreams a reality? This image is taken from the book, use this space to describe what you see, where do you think the girl is going, how do you think she is feeling?

The Bird Within Me. © Sara Lundberg published by Book Island.

Sita Brahmachari • Jane Ray

This is an extract from Swallow’s Kiss by Sita Brahmachari and Jane Ray. Published by Pop Up Projects CIC. Text © Sita Brahmachari, Artwork © Jane Ray. Swallow’s Kiss is endorsed by Amnesty International and is part of the Read for Empathy 2022 Collection. For more information visit: www.pop-up.org.uk/product/swallowskiss/

Publishers are the people who make and sell books. To convince people to buy their books, they often give away things like bookmarks, pens or badges featuring pictures and characters from the story.

Design a bookmark to help to promote an interesting story you know. This could be a story that already exists, one you’ve been told by your family, or one you’ve invented yourself!

For inspiration, ask yourself what is special about the story? What images will show this? What information would you include - writer’s name, illustrator’s name (if there is one)? If the story is from another language or culture, will you include some information about it?

This activity was designed by Anam Zafar & Georgia Wall from World Kid Lit Activity. Project World Kid Lit is a worldwide community of aficionados of world literature for young people.

Books and stories get translated in many languages. Interestingly, sentences can look very diﬀerent depending on who translates it. When you translate, you get to decide what language and words you will use. This is one of the fun parts of being a translator! Experiment with what it’s like to translate by playing this fun drawing game with a partner! 1. Read the sentence below:

2. Without telling your partner, think about how you will draw this sentence. How many friends will you draw? What will they look like? How will you draw their lunch? What will the park look like? Remember: don’t tell your friend how you will draw your picture – it’s a surprise! 3. Without showing your partner, make a drawing of the sentence in the box below. 4. Time to share! Compare your drawings with your partner. What’s similar about your drawings? What’s diﬀerent? Each of your drawings is a diﬀerent interpretation of the same words – just like a translation!

Activity by Olive Amdur for The Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art’s book exhibition Read The World: Picture Books and Translation, as a part of the Amherst College course Spanish 451: Translation Roots of a US Literary Landscape (Fall 2021) taught by Professor Regina Galasso (UMass Amherst). www.carlemuseum.org

My pencil lines blurred, my eyes gritty with tiredness. Mother’s voice could have been coming from another room, it was that muffled. We were working by candlelight, a few crumbs of ginger cake and the remains of my bedtime milk – laced with honey and brandy – on a tray. It was so cosy working together in her four-poster bed, but now I wished we’d continued at the bureau where it was easier to stay awake. ‘Oh, you are fit to drop,’ said Mother, ‘that’s enough for tonight, dear heart. We haven’t even done your hair yet.’ She swung out of the blankets and padded to her dressing table to fetch the bundle of rags. I shook my head and the drowsy fog cleared enough for me to inspect the lines of my sketch. I was pleased with this hat design. Mother had said that the loops of gauze ribbon down one side would balance the large silk peony bloom that covered the entire base. That was what I had intended, but I didn’t say that. Mother had such an eye and I was happy she had taught me so well.

That was why Fyfe’s Milliners had become so popular with the fashionable set. I smiled up at her. ‘What colour?’ I said, and hunched forward as her deft fingers wound my long hair around strips of cotton. ‘Tell me who you see wearing it, picture her.’ I closed my eyes. ‘She’s just married, taking a stroll through Hyde Park with her husband—’ ‘— Oh no. I’m afraid this creation is going to be very . . . expensive. Too much for most young wives.’ She waited for me to go on. I tried not to sigh. Truth was, I saw colours and lines, not the people who might buy the finished headwear. My head felt filled with cotton wool. But I’d heard enough society women describing the occasions where they would build their look around one of Fyfe’s designs to be able to cobble together an answer. ‘Mistress is attending her first grandchild’s christen-ing,’ I said, ‘but thinks of herself as young.’ Mother laughed. ‘Yes, yes, they all like to think of themselves as young, clever heart,’ she said, and her cool fingertips wound the last curls at the top of my scalp. ‘Too tight?’ I shook my head, and my thick snakes of hair bobbed as she kissed my forehead. I stifled a yawn. ‘Colour?’ said Mother. She had said expensive. ‘Paris Green?’ ‘Yes. Both the base and flower in Paris Green, the ribbons in chartreuse.’ ‘She must be a least a countess, then?’ I said. ‘I should hope so,’ said Mother, and we both laughed. Mother’s customers were becoming more and more elegant since we had moved to Grosvenor Square half a year before. I knew this shop and apartment were much more expensive, but Mother had ambition. She wanted to rival the famous Parisian milliner Caroline Reboux. Suddenly I was so exhausted I could do nothing but nod as Mother led me out of her warm bed and into my own at the front of our first-floor apartment above the shop. The sign hung directly below my window: Mrs Rosamund Fyfe and Daughter Mother tucked in my covers and checked the window was open just a crack at the top to allow some air in. Moments later I was asleep in a haze of green silk.

Extract from Lindsay Galvin’s latest book My Friend The Octopus. Text by Lindsay Galvin, illustration © Gordy Wright 2022. Published by Chicken House.

All these fun words are hiding somewhere in this book. Can you spot them? Tick them below once you have found them.

What are these words? Unscramble the letters to find out! I quack like a … I like to walk, I am a ... I am the best thing to read a story, I am a ... I like to purr, I am a ... I am not happy about this, I am ... I have eight arms, I am a ...

Spot the hidden words from the list below.

ADVENTURE ALIEN ANIMAL ANGRY BIRMINGHAM

BLESSING CAT DELILAH DETECTIVE DRAGON DUCKNUTS

FOOD FRIEND GLITTER STORY SWALLOW

How Brave is the Wren and Word Play would like to thank the following authors and illustrators for their contributions to the magazine: Al Murphy, Joshua Seigal, Bethan Woollvin, Laura Howell, Carlie Sorosiak, Andy Jones, Serena Patel, Emma McCann, Sara Lundberg, Sita Brahmachari, Jane Ray, Anam Zafar, Georgia Wall, Lindsay Galvin, Ben Javens. Thank you also to the following publishers for their support:. Scholastic, Macmillan, Walker Books, Nosy Crow, Bloomsbury, Usborne Publishing, Chicken House, Book Island, Pop Up Books. Special thanks to Cathy Olmedillas for all her magazine wisdom. Word Play has been supported using public funding by the National Lottery through Arts Council England. Word Play Stories is A Creative City Project generously funded by Birmingham City Council. You can find all of the books featured in any good library, or if you wish to spend some pocket money please visit www.howbraveisthewren.com

This book was created by How Brave is the Wren, the travelling caravan-bookshop. www.howbraveisthewren.com